Valet Boy is taking this week off to work on a new screenplay and house/pet sit for Dan so he can at last visit with his son and take him to the beach.
But just so Valet Boy’s Fans and Readers have something to think about besides Global Warming, the 9/11 Mosque, Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, etc…..
Here is a piece from the Original Valet Boy Archives long long ago back when it all started.
It was Easter Sunday or Mother’s Day or one such major dining out holiday – and John and I had been running our flat little asses off. There was just the two of us parking cars and the restaurant was busier than a fat tick in a kennel.
John and I had just been accused, by a huge black guy, of being racists and he was going to have us fired, sent to prison, horse whipped – you name it. Why? Because we didn’t get his car parked fast enough.
So, that’s the back story and now…..
“We stewed for a few moments, compared notes on what had just occurred and basically felt sick to our stomachs. I ran a car up to the deck and when I returned, the tensed up Junior Manager was puffing away on his cigarette anxiously awaiting our explanations.
He asked for our side of the story. He listened, nodding occasionally, and told us he understood.
Wow! No face slapping or hanging by the ankles upside down until all our meager little tips rolled into the sewers.
But, he had to make it look as if he was giving us a good reading of the riot act. I mean, we did have an audience after all. (We can’t really “see” them, but we “know” they are watching.)
Valet Boy felt better, but there was still the issue of facing the guy and his family when they came out of the restaurant. I imagined all sorts of images. Daddy with a ten gallon hat, fur chaps, a bull whip and six shooters in hand. Prepped and ready to defend the honor of his family.
“Stan’ back, maw. I’ll git them rustlers”. I did not want to wait around for them to circle the wagons for the attack. I was ready to pack up my vest and hit the rowdy road.
About an hour later they emerged. I spied them, bunched together beneath the awning – it was raining at that moment. I told them that I had set some umbrellas near the door for them, but they eschewed the offer and started for us. Gulp. Here it comes.
Surprisingly enough, it all seemed to have worked itself out. They tipped each of us a $Fin and we cordially apologized for any inconvenience or misunderstanding. Daddy-Bear told my partner he appreciated the thought. The son shrugged and good-naturedly acknowledged as I opened his car door, “THAT’S just my parents.” As they drove away, I pocketed the fiver, waved and smiled. Junior’s wife gave me the “if looks could kill” glare. Papa nodded as they pulled away and Momma gave me the reprise of the expression her daughter-in-law had offered.
I wondered what exactly would it have taken for these two angry women to be made content? If indeed such a thing was even physically possible. Perhaps, a dessert of “Valet Boy’s Head on a Pike”? Or rather, more in keeping with the festivities of the day, perhaps they would have preferred to pass by our crucified bodies, sagging from the weight of all those quarters in our pockets, as we hung from a couple of hastily applied 2 by 4’s. I thought of scalping tickets to see the new band in town “Two Angry Black Chicks With A Grudge”.
But, really…What really did happen…Was that Valet Boy took a long hard self examinatory look at himself. No not the stained and button missing red vest and the silver striped tie. The inside Valet Boy. The heart, soul and mind. Was I a R-A-C-I-S-T ?
Then I got to thinking… Really, how does one examine that question frankly and honestly? If I said yes, then would I also have to admit to being a sexist? Agist? Elitist? There’s a good one. I can hear the Carney Barker now – “Hurry hurry hurry. See the Valet Boy – the poorest Elitist in town”. Speaking of Carney Barkers – was THAT an Elitist Snobbist snub?
The questions required further personal investigation. It won’t be an easy one, I’m sure. But, Valet Boy will get to the bottom of it, I mean, it’s not as if the job itself demanded my full attention!!!
That’s the view from the parking deck this time. Ciao.”